


Winter Storms

by cazrhys



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: AU of Fire Meets Fate, Death, F/M, OC is from our world, Post Under The Mountain, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazrhys/pseuds/cazrhys
Summary: Lorna and Cassian find one another when they need it most
Relationships: Cassian (ACoTaR)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Winter Storms

Lorna finds Cassian when she wants the world to swallow her whole. He’s loud and brash and doesn’t flinch at the foul language she uses — if anything, he tries to use worse words, if only because of the small laugh that had torn from her lips the first time.

He doesn’t leave her alone, becoming a reassuring presence in her life — even when she wants nothing more than to be left alone. “So, Queenslayer,” He says, twirling a spear around his fingers before tossing it to her. “Show me what you got,”

He lets her win — but that doesn’t mean he goes easy on her. The first time, she knocked his feet out from under her, hitting harder and quicker than he thought she could. Since the first time she arrived, she seems happy. Like Rhys and Feyre, she doesn’t talk about Under the Mountain. Cassian pretends not to see the longing looks she gives the latter.

“Lord of Bloodshed, give me your best,” Lorna says, her voice full of... something that made his chest burst with warmth. He listens to her talk about how she wanted nothing more than to go home. 

He tells her she’d always have a place with him.

The first time they kiss, Lorna’s straddling him, her face alight with a victory. “Lord of Bloodshed,” She muses, “Taken down by a mortal,” Her hands are on either side of his face, her breath smelling of mint blowing on his face. His hand reaches up, twisting into her hair as their lips meet. For a moment, Cassian thinks it’ll go farther — her shirt had been thrown to the side, revealing something she used to bind her breasts and her fingers are at the waistband of his pants when Azriel clears his throat. Lorna sheepishly smiles, tossing her shirt back over her head as she mutters something about meeting Mor.

They both pretend that it didn’t happen.

Slowly, like life reborn, Lorna Wells blooms like a flower coming from the ashes. She’s drunk, attempting to get Amren to dance with her. She sways offbeat. From the corner, Feyre laughs, leaning into Rhys. “God, being immortal must be dull if you won’t dance,” Lorna says. She turns to Cassian, her smile contagious. “I bet Cass will dance with me — he isn’t an ass,” Then, she laughs, thinking she’s the funniest person in the world. At that, Cassian laughs and stands to dance.

His chest fills with warmth.

“I don’t know if I want to go home,” Lorna says one evening, linking their fingers together. “I wouldn’t want to leave you,” Cassian sucks in a breathe, “Don’t stay on my account,”

Lorna shifts, no longer looking at the sky but him. His eyes briefly meet the white scars on her wrists, tucked under her head as a pillow. “I like you, Cassian. I like the others, too,”

He falls in love with this mortal slowly then all at once.

She kicks and screams as they take her to the Cauldron, throwing her inside until she no longer fights. Nesta and Elain struggle, watching in horror. He can’t do anything, not while his wings lie in ruins. The Cauldron bubbles, tipping over. Illyrian wings now sit on her back with her rounded ears forced into points. She coughs, forcing black water from her lungs.

Then, she freezes and so does Tamlin.

She lunges, screaming that she’s going to kill him. Tamlin doesn’t fight, caught in between his mate and his former love.

Lorna is left in Hybern, a political hostage as he heals. He can’t stop thinking of her — of his weakness.

She comes back months later and refuses to speak. “I want to go home,” She says simply, both knowing that can’t happen. Lorna, who is now immortal and angry enough to destroy cities, cannot fit back into her mortal life, even if they find a way to send her home.

That night, she comes to him and cleans his wings herself. Her own drag behind her, nearly making him cringe. She hadn't known the implications of that. She kisses him, and he slides his tongue over her lips. He’s never been so certain of anything. They spend the night together, claiming each other in a way that friends don’t.

Once the battles begin, Lorna insists on fighting. She says something to Rhysand — and he lets her.

They burn her body that night, guilt lining Rhysand’s features. Feyre refuses to look at him and Amren locks herself in her room, insisting on studying the Book of Breathings. Tamlin rages, vowing to destroy them all. Mor sobs. 

What they had — it hadn’t lasted long. He’d had flings that lasted longer. Lorna wasn’t a moment.

He doesn’t forget what she said to him the last time he saw her, “I love you,”

He regrets not saying it back. 

His chest is cold and empty. 


End file.
